10. Pepper
The wet towel wrapped around my hair comes loose and dark locks tumble around my face in front of the mirror.
A memory flashes of my parents’ house after a shower, when I’d spend a good hour blow drying my wavy auburn hair into sleek straight strands.
Straight hair was a lot less attention grabbing. Which I had plenty of growing up in this town.
“Just straight please,” I say to the buff woman behind me taking control of my hair.
She leans in. “I didn’t ask.”
I mouth a silent Okay.
“Look, when you get home—you can wash it and style it however you want, but you will leave my salon the way this hair is meant to be worn.”
She pulls a circular brush from her station and starts at the back of my head, tugging and applying heat at the roots before working her way down.
“You the girlfriend?” she asks, cocking her head at Chase, who’s been preoccupied in the waiting area since he got back from wherever it was he went when he dropped me off at the salon near the arena.
How do I answer that? How big are we going with this lie? He said everyone around us, including the media, should be aware. Penelope Walker needed to disappear from existence.
“I’m his…fiancée.”
She perks a brow. “Ah. Must be new.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You’re saying it like you don’t believe it.”
“I guess I don’t.”
“Just because he’s a hockey star doesn’t make you any less worthy.”
“That’s not at all what I—”
“Yeah, Trish, I’ve been trying to convince her she’s worthy for months now—she still thinks I’m a flight risk.” He looks at me pointedly. “Which is ironic.”
Oh, the irony.
Chase watches as Trish finishes the last section of hair and rests it to one side. It takes my own breath away as I look at my reflection. My hair is wavy in beautiful swaying locks, gently shaping my round face. It’s…familiar.
My eyes flicker to Chase behind me in the mirror. He’s watching me like he hasn’t seen me in years.
It makes my stomach buzz.
Trish steps back. “There! Blonde is definitely not your color.”
“Thanks.”
I swivel my chair to face my fake fiancé. “Can’t call me Blondie anymore.”
He stretches a hand. “Come on, Chile.”
“Chile?”
Chase ignores me and tips the hairdresser.
Trish winks a thank you then looks at me. “Did you say your name was Pepper?”
“Yeah.”
She pats my shoulder. “It’ll come to ya.”
I’m racing to keep up with Chase as he strides down the long hallway toward the locker rooms.
“Umm…where exactly am I supposed to go after you go in there? Oooh, can I come in?” I tease.
He stops and turns, a “nice try” smirk on his face. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re mine.”
My stomach flips.
“And we need to make everyone here believe it.”
“Thought I heard voices.” The familiar female voice comes from behind us. Lonnie pokes her head from out of her office.
“Lon. You remember Pepper.”
“New look. I like it.” She looks at Chase. “Is she ready?”
Chase turns to me. “I didn’t have a chance to fill her in on the details. Could you give us a sec?”
She nods and puts her hand on the door to her office. “The other girls are in here, so make it fast.”
I wait until Lonnie leaves us and turn back to Chase in a panic. “How am I supposed to convince a professional choreographer that I’m a figure skater?”
“You’re not. Lonnie’s got a plan.”
“A plan? She knows?”
“I can’t think of everything, Pepper. I just knew I needed to keep you close in case…someone shows up. And it goes with your history as a cheerleader.”
“She knows…about everything?”
“I didn’t have a choice. When I called her, she said I better have a good reason for bringing an amateur on the team.”
“Chase!”
“Look, Lonnie comes from her own drama. She of all people will get it. You can trust her.”
My hands shake but I nod. “I don’t know how to skate.”
“Sure you can. Hideaway Lake.”
I frown up at him. “You remember that?”
His eyes roam over my features like he’s studying me. “I looked forward to it.”
There’s a beat before I blink away from his gaze. “It’s not the same thing.”
“Ice Girls aren’t figure skaters. They do exactly what you did on that lake with your friends. Skate around and have fun.”
I bite my lip. “And no cameras?”
He lifts my chin. “It’s like walking out the front door of a bank you just robbed. Act like you own it.”
I sigh and push his hand down. Partly because I hate what his touch does to me. “You’re the King of something alright. Bad ideas.”
He chuckles and points to the door before walking away.
I hold my breath and I give it a light knock.
“Come on in.”
I poke my head in, feeling awkward as hell. “Hello.”
“There she is.” Lonnie waves me in impatiently.
I walk in tentatively and notice the six girls in red and white uniforms. Half hanging around the large sofa. The other half spread across the floor, doing stretches.
I swallow and Lonnie winks at me. “Ladies, this is Pepper Woods. You might have heard of her, she was on the California Mermaids for three years and before that, she was teaching skating to kids at the local community ice rink in her hometown.”
“You’re Chase’s girlfriend, right?”
“Fiancée,” Lonnie corrects quickly. “So hands off, ladies. That goes for you too, M.J.” My eyes follow to the woman she’s pointing to. The one who looks like she’s checking me out—and rolls her eyes.
“Welcome to the Denver Ice Queens.”
I release a nervous breath, which Lonnie must catch. “One thing, ladies. Pepper suffered an accident a few months ago and this will be her first time on the ice since. So it’ll be a few games before she officially joins us out there. I’ll be working with her privately till then.”
I swallow. That’s their story? That I’m a little rusty and need time to adjust? In New York they’d tell you to go find someone who isn’t broken for the job.
But the girls in front of me don’t do any of that. They moan and stretch out their arms.
“Oh no. What’d you hurt?”
“That sucks. How’d it happen?”
“We’ll help you get back on.”
Lonnie puts an arm around me. “You’re in good hands.”
“It was awful. Thank God no one else was on the rink with us. I fell twelve times. This injury you guys conjured up—no longer a big fat lie at the rate I’m going.”
Chase chuckles as he unlocks the door to his apartment. “Well, you’ve got a few days to recover. The Ice Queens don’t come to away games. I’ll take you back to town before I leave for Toronto.”
“How long are you going for?” Immediately, I regret asking. The question seems innocent enough but a guy like Chase Reeves will probably think I’m getting clingy or something. I’m not really his fiancée. I don’t need to know how long he’ll be gone. “You don’t have to answer that. I don’t need to know.”
He exhales a laugh. “Don’t apologize. You have a right to know how long I’ll be out of town…wifey.”
“We’re not actually getting married, are we?”
“I don’t think it’ll get that far.”
I pause as we enter his apartment. “You mean you’d actually do it?”
“Would you? Or should I have an armed guard outside your bridal suite?”
I avoid the urge to slap his arm playfully and just narrow my eyes at him. “Very funny.”
He closes the door behind me and I step farther into the minimalist decorated bachelor pad. It’s lofty with a large cowhide rug in the living room area. Two gray sofas and probably one of the biggest TVs I’ve ever seen.
The kitchen is white with a dark blue and gold backsplash and looks highly unused. “You don’t cook here much, do you?”
“I cook plenty. I cook clean.” He glances at the double doors near the balcony and starts to move. “I’ll set you up in the bedroom and I’ll take the couch.”
I catch his hand. “You can’t keep taking the couch—if we see this through, we’ll be staying in the same place for the next few weeks at least. You play a professional sport—you’re flying internationally tomorrow night. You’re going to need a good night’s sleep.” I cross my arms.
He sighs, scanning me. “Pepper, you can barely walk, you’re not sleeping on the couch.”
“Is it right this way?” I point to the French doors.
“Yeah.”
I stride over and push them open, taking in the remarkable large bedroom. At first glance, I can tell this is not a Chase Reeves hand-picked design. The bed is king-sized with a dark tufted headboard. The linens are midnight blue and white with matching throw pillows lined across a bench in front of the bed. The dressers and nightstands are dark wood with gold hardware. And a black and white enlarged photo of the Denver Kings arena hangs on the back wall. “Wow.”
“Decorator.”
I scoff back at him. “Lazy.”
“Busy,” he corrects.
I bite my lip and look up at him tentatively. With a grin, he folds his arms and leans slyly against the doorframe.
The fucker is going to make me say it.
“We can…stay here…I mean, we can probably share the bed.”
“Are you asking me to sleep with you, Pepper?”
I roll my eyes and march back to the couch. “Forget it.”
He catches my arm. “I’m kidding. We’re both adults. We can share a bed tonight. We’ll figure something out for any other nights we…spend together.”
“Great. Is it alright if I take a quick shower first? My bones hurt from falling on my ass a million times tonight.”
He cocks a grin. “Sure. I don’t mind, but you know there’s a girls’ locker room for the Queens?”
My eyes go wide. “And let those girls see me bruised and crippled?” I shake my head. “Oh no. You said not to give anyone a clue that I’m not who I say I am.”
He smiles. “You are who you say you are. We’re just forgetting the last few years ever happened.”
I inhale. “Right.” But I wonder if he means just the two years I’ve known Troy. Or the eight years I’ve been gone.
The hot shower warms and relaxes my muscles enough to soothe for the night. But I just know I’ll be hurting tomorrow.
Chase uses some sort of green sage soap, which smells surprisingly delightful, so I lather up. It feels too good as I pinch my shoulder muscles and release something between a moan and a groan as the bathroom door opens. The frosted white curtain is shut, but I peek out just in time to see Chase brushing his teeth.
“Ever hear of boundaries or…you know privacy?”
He frowns and mumbles. “What?”
“Never mind.”
A minute later, I rinse off and peek out again. Chase left two towels for me within reach.
The bathroom is spacious enough. Standard shower, marble tile floors. There’s a toothbrush set out for me too, and I wonder if Chase came in here before I was done with my shower as a way of setting me up but made it look like it was about him.
That would be typical Chase. At least the one I’ve come to know the last few days.
“What, no makeup remover?” I mutter, then slip off my towel. My clothes are gone too. I planned on wearing the Ice Queens jersey that Lonnie gave me today, but it’s missing. Instead, resting on the small bench is a pair of pajama pants that are way too big for me and a dark blue t-shirt.
“At least they’re drawstring,” I mutter again and slip them on. My fingers graze the door handle and I think about how I got here. I’m about to climb into bed with Chase Reeves. The boy I once thought was cute and lashed out at because of my insecurities.
Because of what I thought everyone knew and wasn’t saying out loud.
They left you.
You weren’t good enough.
I step into the bedroom; it’s dim, with just one light on my side of the bed—a simple sconce on the wall. It casts a cozy glow, making the space feel warm and inviting in the darkness.
I assume it’s my side since Chase is asleep on the other, partially turned and facing the window. There’s more than enough room for two of me on this side of the bed, making the odds of us ever touching almost non-existent.
Super.
Slipping under the covers, I hold back another moan. This bed. I haven’t had relief like this in ages. Can we say five-star comfort?
I don’t know what it is, whether it’s the peace of knowing I’m safe tonight because Chase is beside me, or the fact that I’m not alone—or just the comfort of knowing I’m being protected…by four very capable men. It feels like I could finally get a good night’s sleep.
Instead of being kept up at night by the same nightmare I’ve had since I was eighteen.